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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27583963">tension</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppywine/pseuds/poppywine'>poppywine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Help! My Boss Is A MILF, Reader-Insert, Workplace Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:03:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,068</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27583963</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppywine/pseuds/poppywine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You’re not supposed to be here. </p><p>That’s not an exaggeration or a metaphor, either- you’re literally in the wrong part of the facility, if the locked, completely silent room you’re currently facing is any indication. This is not good, all things considered; this is your first day working here and being lost isn’t exactly the stellar impression you’re hoping to make on your new boss.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Olivia Octavius/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>tension</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You’re not supposed to be here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s not an exaggeration or a metaphor, either- you’re literally in the wrong part of the facility, if the locked, completely silent room you’re currently facing is any indication. This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> good, all things considered; this is your first day working here and being lost isn’t exactly the stellar impression you’re hoping to make on your new boss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helplessly, you yank on the handle, hearing the uncompromising </span>
  <em>
    <span>thunk</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the lock coming from the inside before desperately checking and re-reading the confirmation notice on your phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The number on the door is the exact same one as on the alert, but instead of reassuring you it makes you feel even worse. If the number is right, and you’re where you should be, then something is wrong </span>
  <em>
    <span>here </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the lab and that’s somehow scarier.  Trying to calm yourself down, you rock on your heels and lean against the cold steel of the door, counting your breaths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment, inspiration strikes you and you grab your phone, punching her number and pressing the call button, only to start holding your breath as the line starts ringing. You’re so invested in waiting for an answer that you fail to notice the faint flicker of light from behind the door. What you do notice, however, is the obvious thud that comes from behind the lock, and through the tiny porthole in the door you can see a phone lying face up you watch with a sinking dread as you hang up and watch through the glass as the fallen phone stops ringing in kind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holding your phone loosely, you slouch against the wall, feeling the first dew of nervous sweat prickle across your face. You’re still trying to figure out your next move when the sound of footsteps snaps you out of your panic, and you snap your head in the direction of the sound. It’s the flint-faced bodyguard you’ve seen before, during your first interview. His name is something silly, like a cartoon: Graveyard? Cemetery maybe -And when he sees you he pauses, taking in your frazzled expression and the employee ID swinging around neck. He’s limping slightly but still imposing, and after a tense second he cuts his eyes at you and rolls his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go home, kid. We’re closed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that he turns away, leaving you alone in the stark hallway. From behind you, a metallic crash comes and your frayed nerves snap- you bolt from the building and don’t stop running until you’re back at the bus station. When you get home, you crash, flopping on your bed without even taking your shoes off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What a great first day.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>You go back the next day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s probably stupid, to barge in without a courtesy call or even check on your apparently missing boss before arriving, but you need this job- the pay is outstanding, and your employment here is almost certainly due to sheer dumb luck that you don’t know you can ever replicate again. With that in mind, you make your way back down the halls, already wondering what you’ll do when you get there and it’s closed again. You round the last corner, your tongue dry in your mouth, when you see it. It’s the same door from yesterday, the same right angles and stenciled numbers, but it- it’s-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door is open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door is open a crack and light spills from the gap, accompanied by the quiet sound of a woman humming. The harmless noise brings you up short, uncharacteristically anxious, and you square your shoulders and count backwards from five before crossing the distance and pushing the door open, keeping your expression calm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first thing you see is hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your new boss has a mane of wavy curls, shot through with strands of purple. She looks to be taller then you by almost half a foot, and wears a lab coat that ends just above her knees. As you stand there, trying to work out a way to introduce yourself, she lets out a pleased noise and rolls up both sleeves to the elbow. Still unaware of your presence, you watch her delighted expression as she fills a pipette with a mysterious substance and drips it into a petri dish, taking special delight in the plume of smoke that curls up in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um,” you say, because how else does one introduce themselves? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks up immediately, carefully putting the pipette to the side and twisting off her seat to approach you, pulling off her gloves with a flourish before dropping them to the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this distance you can see the color of her eyes in detail- a warm green, like the leaf of a fern. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh... am your new assistant?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right, right! That must mean you are...” Kicking the gloves away, she pulls out her phone and types faster then you can follow, reading your name aloud before turning back to you with raised eyebrows. Her eyes regard you with a hungry intensity that almost makes you self-conscious, but you will yourself to face her and keep your voice steady. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, that’s... that’s me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect, perfect! Why don’t you sit here...” She grips your shoulders and steers you over to a stool at the end of her workspace, pushing a tablet into your hands before relinquishing her hold on you and taking her own seat, pulling a fresh pair of gloves out of a pocket before continuing. “And listen. But also... keep an eye out, okay? I’d hate to see you go the way of my last assistant.” She laughs and jerks a thumb at the wall behind her, and when you lean around for a better view you can see an enormous scorch mark with a human silhouette at its center.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, without warning, she turns back to her work and starts </span>
  <em>
    <span>speaking</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so quickly you lose track of your own fingers as they tap frantically in an attempt to keep up. You’re so engrossed in your task that you hardly move for the rest of the day, engrossed in the task at hand. It isn’t until the lab echoes with the muffled </span>
  <em>
    <span>clunk </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the power being shut off that you realize night has more then fallen, the darkness outside the windows cutting stark shapes against the glaring white of the facilities.</span>
</p>
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